


Guess who's back (Back again)

by CrestVoid



Category: Dream SMP-Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alexis | Quackity Angst, Alexis | Quackity-centric, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, At some point later, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Evil Quackity, GhostJschlatt - Freeform, Ghostbur, Hybrid Toby Smith | Tubbo, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kinda, M/M, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Mental Breakdown, Nightmares, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Possessed Quackity, Villain Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), at some point, ill add more later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27852542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrestVoid/pseuds/CrestVoid
Summary: Quackity's being haunted by a certain ram, who still has a bone to pick with him.I'm not even trying to do a good summary rn, I'll fix it later.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt
Comments: 48
Kudos: 469





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If some of the characters are ooc I'm sorry, I'm still trying to do a character study on them to be able to get it right. But, for some, it might be purposeful.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Any relationships, like romantic ones, that happen are strictly canon. For example Quackity and Schlatt. Most of the implied romantic bits will be flashbacks, the present time is really just manipulation based!

Quackity was good at hiding any type of negative emotion, he’d have enough practice with Schlatt to know that was a fact. 

He would've thought with said man now dead and gone, he’d have a weight of sorts lifted off his shoulders. Instead, the weight only seemed to double tenfold, as the days went on. Some days he could barely be able to enter Schlatt’s old -- no Tubbo’s -- office, without an ache beginning to spread in his chest. And god forbid the days he’d have to put on his suit, just looking at the damn thing sent a wave of, what Quackity could only describe as, depression over him.

At first, he simply thought he needed to grieve properly. As screaming out, “That motherfucker is dead!”, ~~and eating his heart~~ , might not be the best way to cope. So, he took a day off from everyone. Stayed in his house, sat on his bed, and waited for anything to happen, tears, anger, whatever. But, yet nothing seemed to present itself.

He decided maybe bringing out the suit would help, and in a way it did, but it still didn’t feel like he was grieving.

He kept an empty gaze to the darken suit, noticing the slight tearing it had, or the spots worn of its color. The small bubbling feeling of guilty crept up his back and his hands tightened on his bedsheets.

  
  
  


_ “Everyone left me...even you.” _

  
  
  


It’s not like he really wanted to, he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Schlatt was losing his goddamn mind, the man couldn’t seem to go even a few hours without getting drunk off his ass. In a way...wasn’t he helping him? 

  
  


With more energy than he had presented in the past week, he folded up the suit and shoved it away in his dresser. Beneath old clothes he hadn’t worn or seen in years, then shut it. 

He took a passing glance out his window, the sun was starting to set, and even still he could make out a few figures in the distances. He thought about going over to them, maybe even hanging out with some for the night. But, suddenly his stomach lurched at the thought, hitting him with a sense of nausea he wasn’t expecting. 

He stumbled over to his bed and laid down, quickly pushing away the thought of hanging out with anyone for the moment. And just like that, the sickness surpassed within the second. Any feeling of sickness or dizziness that had just passed through was gone without a trace.

Though thoroughly confused, the male passed it off as a simple symptom of nervousness and turned in for the night.

The next day he found out that it, in fact, was not just a symptom of nervousness and instead of a bigger issue.

* * *

When Quackity arose the next morning, it was to the sound of yelling or talking. He forgot that Tommy had a loud ass voice. He turned in his bed trying to get more comfortable, with hopes he’d fall back to sleep, but alas that wasn’t going to be the case.

A loud banging sounded towards the front of his home and a blanket of irritation fell on him. He tossed off the covers and made his way towards the course of the sound, his feet dragging along the hardwood floors of his cottage. It almost felt robotic, his arms and legs still ached from having been woken up so suddenly and the cloud of sleep had yet to be lifted from his eyes. Yet his body moved as if he’d been awake the whole time.

He yanked the door open, cutting off the obnoxious knocking abruptly, and showed off the figure of Tommy. The boy seemed momentarily stunned, but went back to his usual posture.

“You look like shit.” The blonde stated after a beat of silence, scanning Quackity.

“Is that all?” His voice still was heavy with sleep, lower and slightly slurred. 

“You just woke up?”

Quackity didn’t respond, for one he was too tried to answer such an obvious question so earlier in the morning, and two, he just didn’t feel like answering. No laugh or witty response came from him just still silence, though Tommy didn’t seem too bothered.

“You must’ve forgotten your meeting with Tubbo today then.”

“Meeting?” His answer was immediate, some of the sleepiness faltered off as he stood up straighter. He wracked his brain for such information, then remembered how he was indeed supposed to be in a meeting with Tubbo today, bright and earlier. “Shit.” 

He rubbed his face, then grabbed the door handle, “Tell Tubbo I’ll be there soon, I just have to get ready.” He didn’t wait for a response as he shut the door in the other’s face, turning on his heel and tuning out the string of curses the teen outside was unleashing.

He was honestly surprised he had forgotten the meeting, to begin with. He was usually on top of coming to meetings on time and from Schlatt’s time in office, he couldn’t remember one time he’d actually been late. Granted, he had found himself on occasion arriving much earlier than he needed to, to prevent him from being late but no one needed to know that.

His body moved on autopilot as he got ready, his mind on nothing in particular. He placed on his usual, comfortable outfit, not even giving the new suit he was gifted after Tubbo’s election a passing glance. He grabbed the tools he’d need for the day, then started out to Tubbo’s office.

He kept himself calm throughout his walk to the building, his usual smile tighter and forced as he waved at passing people.

Once he made it to the building, his chest seemed to tighten with every step. The sound of his shoes clicking against the cobblestone ground, echoed along the walls as he entered. He found himself slowing down as he grew closer to the office door, fear trickled down his spine as he anticipated the familiar glare of his old boss who’d be patiently waiting for him. Or the insults and mockery that usually followed after, as the room was drenched in an alcoholic stench, mixed with the slight scent of smoke that always had his nose scrunch up when he walked in. But, as he worked alongside Schlatt for the next couple of weeks, he’d gotten used to it.

He shook his head, this was not the time for reminiscing. He had a meeting to attend and he didn’t want to hold Tubbo longer than he needed. With one deep breath, he pushed open the office door.

Tubbbo, having been given a heads up on Quackity’s lateness, sat patiently in his office making a neat stack of paperwork on one side of the desk. The meeting was nothing urgent, really, it honestly was just him needing an extension of help with the paperwork. He couldn’t trust Tommy to be able to do, god knows he’d come back to an empty office and blank sheets. He already had given Fundy his task, and Quackity at least had the experience when it came down to this sort of thing from Schlatt, so he seemed like the best option.

As the large oak door creaked open, he lifted his head to gaze at who was entering. 

“Oh, Quackity! Great to see you made it!” A large smile tugged at his lips as he stood, the large office room seeming less empty as the man entered.

Said man seemed to loosen up some, all tenseness leaving his body.

_ It’s just Tubbo. The kids’ harmless. _

  
  


_**For how long though?** _

  
  


“Yeah, woke up a tad bit late! Luckily I had Tommy as an alarm clock.”

“He told me. Said you weren’t the happiest, which I can understand if he woke you up the way I think he did.”

A weak chuckle pushed past Quackity’s lips, as he scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah..”

“Anyway though, I just wanted to ask if you could do this paperwork for me. Hopefully, it can get done by the end of the week?” The newly made president reached over to grab the stack of papers handing them to the other male.

Briefly scanning them, he noticed some recurring papers he’d had to fill out before. It seemed easy enough, to say the least.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, sure. I can have this done by the end of the week.”

“Great! Knew I could count on you!” The smaller male rested a hand on Quackity’s shoulder, a large smile plastered on his face. But for some reason, Quackity could only see Schlatt’s toothy grin staring back at him. The once before, small horn and ears now long like the ex-presidents.

He froze up from a moment, stilling under the stare the other had on him.

“..kity..? Hey dude, you good?”

Now out of his trace, a worried expression took over Tubbo’s face, and once more Quackity found himself relaxing.

“Uh, yea..! Sorry, spaced out a bit..!” Chuckling, he pulled back from the president and glanced at the exit. “I’m gonna get started on these, you can check-in if you need to.”

With that, he turned on his heel and right to the exit, not missing the, “Oh, uh, okay..?” from Tubbo as he turned out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

He clutched the papers tightly in his hand as he walked briskly down the hall. Whatever he experienced back there was _not_ because he missed Schlatt. He was _happy_ that bastard was dead, gone. _Never to be seen again._ Yet, his chest still tightened and his heart sunk, the more and more he tried to get his brain to register that.

He quietly shut his office door once he entered, and slumped into the seat after plopping all the papers down on the desk. 

  
  


_ I do not miss him. I do not miss him. I do not miss him. _

  
  


_**Yeah, ya’ do.** _

  
  


_ I do  **not.** _

He only slumped further into his chair, bringing his hands up to rub his face. It wasn’t even mid-morning yet and he was already tired and the innocently stacked pieces of papers weren’t helping him any.

He glanced over at the window, adjacent to his desk, seeing how the sun just started to fully set in the sky. He looked back at the papers, he had a week to get them done and most of them he could knock out in two days max..a small nap wouldn’t hurt. 

He sat up in the chair and rested his head against the desk, then closed his eyes drifting off within a matter of minutes.

Dreams usually were an escape for him, for the most part, his imagination led him to a world that everything wasn’t going to shit every second. That he wasn’t working for some type of dictator, or that he wasn’t on the opposing team. Or simply that Schlatt wasn’t a jackass. 

Obviously, when he woke, those dreams were crushed each and every time. But, that's what made sleeping and dreaming even better for him. That it was an official escape from reality.

But for some reason, it wasn’t the same this time.

  
  


_ When he lifted his head off the desk, he was greeted with the same scenery before he’d fallen asleep. His office. The only difference was that the sun was setting. _

_ From what he could see outside his window, no one was out or at least not in his view of seeing. _

_ He stood up, glancing down at the pieces of paper that he’d put on the desk, only to find them missing. He simply shrugged it off, not like it really mattered. _

_ He walked around his desk, noticing how loud his footsteps seemed to be. They echoed off the walls and filled the office, dimming down only a few seconds later. _

_ He stood in front of the door, hand tightly on the door handle as he got ready to open in. The moment he creaked it open, he could make out the soft rhythm of music counting from somewhere in the large building. _

_ He hesitated, before opening the door fully and walked out into the dark hall. It seemed normal enough, nothing odd or out of place so he took to find the source of the music. _

_ The more he walked, and the closer he got to the sound, the more he dreaded what was to come. The trail of music was leading him right to the president's office, and he was certain he knew who’d see behind the door. _

_ He turned the corner that led to the main office, light shined from underneath the door, as the music grew a pitch louder. As he walked down the hall, all nervousness seemed to fall away. He faltered in step, as he felt as if a weight had lifted off his shoulders. He didn’t feel nervous, he didn’t feel uneased. It just felt...normal. _

_ “Probably not a good sign..” Quackity quietly mumbled to himself as he started up walking once more, and reached the door within seconds. _

_ Unlike before, he didn’t hesitate, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. _

_ As he looked around, he didn’t notice anyone. _

_ There was a jukebox in the far side of the room, still playing the soft tone music without pause.  _ _ The lanterns that hung in the room, gave the surroundings a nice orange glow. He almost smiled. _

_ Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, it seemed as normal as it could’ve been in that moment. He was about to turn around before he noticed the desk. It was cleared off, except for a plant and what seemed to be a book. _

_ He glanced behind him at the doorway, a part of him just told him to walk out and try and find someone or go back to sleep. But, the other half was rather curious and what was the hurt in seeing what it was.  _

_ Walking with the same confidence he’d had trekking down the hall. He lifted the book in his hands and flipped it open. He scanned through the page, only to realize it seemed to be some boring piece of contract paper. Nothing interesting and from what the book said, there was one-hundred of theses. _

_ He flipped through each page, seeing that it indeed held mainly documented information. Until he got to page thirty, in which it stopped and so did the music.  _

_ All at once, he felt an odd sense of  Déjà vu and a rush of the same anxiety that had dissipated earlier before. He quickly flipped through the pages of the book, just as he reached the end the door behind him slammed shut and the sound of fast-paced footsteps rang throughout the room behind him. _

_ He didn’t move, his body actually couldn’t, though it’s not like he tried. Instead, he stayed fixated on the three words that were written in the back of the book. _

_**“Come find me.”** _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that Quackity has cannonly been possessed makes this even the more better hcdhjhkjg
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!!

The moment Quackity woke up, he immediately fled his office. He stumbled a bit as he quickly stood up, his vision filling up with spots for a moment, not like it stopped him. 

His mind felt hazy and he could vaguely feel the clawed hand rest on his shoulder. Or the feeling of breath hitting his neck, as a familiar voice spoke in his ear. But as he walked out in the open, the cool breeze hitting his skin, the numbness that had once coated his body wore off. He let out a deep breath, slumping against a nearby tree as he gazed up in the sky.

He knew what this meant, or had a good idea. 

He thought about Schlatt still being around when he came in contact with Wilbur. Seeing the once dead man going around as if everything was honky-dory, no memory of the absolute disaster that happened days earlier, gave him a glimmer of hope. But as days passed, he didn’t see or hear anything about Schlatt. The funeral came and went, and his hope the man would return had dissipated completely.

Part of him didn’t know which Schlatt he wanted back, as stupid as it sounded. As much as the Schlatt he knew sucked, the guy still had a place in his heart..somewhere in there. It's the whole reason he even stayed by his side as long as he did. But, the aspect of Schlatt not remembering anything that had taken place, no election, no festival, or his betrayal, sent a joyful wave over him.

He pushed himself off the tree trunk and with his energy returning, he started out to find the ghost.

  
  


Now this is where everything got tricky. 

  
  


Quackity had really only seen Wilbur on two or three off occasions up close, and other times he’d seen him in passing glance. Those times, he never really thought to ask him if he saw anyone else with him, mainly thinking that if Schlatt was a ghost he’d just appear like Wilbur was. Now, of course, he’d wished he asked but he felt sure if Schlatt was really out there Wilbur would’ve seen him by now.

“Big Q!”

Turning his head, Quackity spotted Tommy coming his way, and would you look at that, Phil trailing on behind him. Just his lucky, if anything hopefully he had the whereabouts of Wilbur.

“How was your meeting with Tubbo, Big Q?” 

Letting a relaxed smile cross over his face, Quackity shoved his hand into his pockets. ”Uh, it was nothing important, just paperwork.”

”That's it? Well, shouldn't you be doing it then?”

”I have a week to get it done, it's easy stuff. I've already done it before, ya’know?”

”Ah, with Schlatt! Yeah, then this should be pretty easy for ya’ then! You're pretty well fuckin’ versed with that whole thing!”

”Ah, haha..yeah.”

Phil cleared his throat after a beat of silence, ”Were you going somewhere? Tommy and I were going to get some supplies to finish fixing the place up. You're welcome to come with.”

”If you come, you better help us!” Tommy chimed in, walking past the secretary, with Phil trailing behind him. 

”Yeah, yeah, sure! I'll help!”

Following the duo, he fell into a comfortable silence as the two ahead rambled about one thing and another. 

Quackity knew this would be a good time to ask about Wilbur, but for some reason, the urge to ask got stuck in his throat. Nervousness took over, keeping him silent and fuming to himself till they got to one of the up-ground bases.

He kept his silence as he walked to one of the chests, pilling it open and stifling through. As he pulled out a few items, he was suddenly glad he'd chosen to wear what he did. 

Something sounding from behind had him quickly turning, his heart leaping, hoping to be met with the familiar sight of the now obnoxiously, oblivious ghost. Instead, he was met with a simple civilian, gathering supplies to help rebuild no less.

”You lookin’ for someone mate?” Phil's voice sounded behind him, having to swerve in that direction. The older man raised a brow at him and he quickly spat out what he could.

”Wha- oh, uh, yeah kinda– I was just uh–” he coughed, internally cursing at himself to get his composure. ”Wheres, uh, where's Wilbur?” he tried.

”Wilbur?” Phil repeated, his expression softening but the look of confusion stayed. ”Why? Do you need to see him?”

”Uh-”

”I haven't seen him since yesterday! He seemed quite low, disappeared after speaking for a couple of minutes.” Tommy spoke up from the other side of the room, seemingly looking for something of his own.

”Yeah, I haven't seen him since yesterday either. We can try and look for him though. What do you need him for?”

”Well, its kinda–”

”Shit!” Slamming the chest close, Tommy grumbled some more curses and Phil moved his gaze from the now confused Secretary to his son.

”What?”

”I forgot my pickaxe at home! I have to go back and get it!”

”I told you to make sure you had everything before we went.” Phil laughed, keeping that calm composure as usual. ”But, why don't you just utilize one of the picks here?”

”No, the one I have is faster than those. It’lll get the job done! I won't take long, just stay here!” 

Phil gave a small nod to the boy as he ran out, before shaking his head, ”Well, then.” he turned back to Quackity, a small smile playing on his lips. ”Now why did you need to see Wilbur again?”

Even though the question wasn't holding any threatening tones, he still found his chest tightening some. He took a deep breath to relax, but still avoided the others gaze. 

”I just wanted to know if he's seen someone.”

”What? Seen someone? Like someone who he remembers?”

”Uhhh, kinda? But, he probably won't.” he backtracked, fiddling with someone the material, ”It doesn't matter. I won't ask him.”

He was met with silence, though he felt as if he practically could hear the other thinking across from where he stood.

”Is this about Schlatt?”

Immediately, Quackity was quick to try and stutter out some excuse, but was cut off by Phil.

“If it’s about Schlatt, then no, Wilbur doesn’t remember him. He told me he only remembers things that make him happy.”

“Oh.”

“Is that it then? It’s about him? What’d you want to ask him?”

Gripping onto the edge of his beanie, he shrugged his shoulders some, “I Uh, I just wanted to know if he’d seen him.”

“Seen him? You mean–“

Quackity let out a long sigh, eyes narrowing down at the ground. “I just thought that since Wilbur’s back, even if just as a ghost that maybe Schlatt was out there to.”

“Do..do you want to see him..?”

“I..I don’t know?? Maybe? I guess?”

The man fell silent again, just long enough for the sound of footsteps beating against the grass to be heard in the distance, no less Tommy. 

The man gave a small hum, making Quackity finally glance at the male, meeting his gaze. 

“I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to ask.” He started, “But, just know..something are better left in the dark.”

  
  


Tommy’s shrill voice screamed at them from outside to hurry out, and Phil gently placed a hand on the other shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze then turned to head out giving Quackity a wave to follow. 

The other did, following behind at a close distance. He kept his gaze straight ahead and as much as he wanted to think over Phil’s words, he was too busy convincing himself that he wasn’t just vaguely seeing a frighteningly similar figure from the corner of his eye.


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of the day was a complete nightmare, he swore he saw shit from the corner of his eyes and insisted he stay close to the two. They obviously were a bit curious to why he was acting this way, but he wasn’t about to tell them that he though his boss, ex-husband, ex-fucking-president, was following him. Purposely trying to make him paranoid. So, he just shrugged it off as plain nerves.

But it was harder to shrug it off as time progressed and the initial ‘encounters’ he was having were starting to increase in severity. For example,

A good two days had passed since he’d helped Phil and Tommy, and for his body's sake, he declined the offer to help rebuild for the week. His body still felt sore and it was hard enough to walk from his home to the office, carrying nothing more than a few papers. But, he did promise to bring them dinner as compensation, so he felt it evened it out.

For the past two days, Schlatt wasn’t doing anything more than staying just out of his view. He didn’t have any more nightmares about him, or any at all for that fact. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't had a dream since his last nightmare. He guessed he should be a bit grateful at least. 

The walk to the office was a peaceful one, mostly everyone had already taken to one place of the town to help rebuild. Others, like him and Fundy, had to stay and do less physical, but still important work. 

He heard voices before he even turned in the hall to Tubbo’s office, he could clearly hear the president, but another voice had him pause trying to figure out who it was. His mind made a distinct connection the moment he caught a green hoodie coming into view. 

A frown made its way to Quackity’s face, only briefly, as once he entered he placed the more relaxed and clamer tone back on. 

The two stopped their conversation abruptly, which didn’t concern him much. He was used to that and furthermore he trusted Tubbo’s judgement to not be planning anything..risky behind him and Fundy’s back. He wasn’t like him. 

“Hey, Mr. President sir! Any papers I need to add on to the pile or am I still left with the same amount?”

Tubbo straightened out some, shoulders drawing back and eyes slightly narrowed. “No, that's it Vice President. Nothing else is added for now.”

Quackity blinked once, then twice, waiting for Tubbo to break out in a smile or laugh, or explain why he’d called him by his position. But seeing the unblinking stare, and feeling another stare bore into the side of his face, he quirked a brow and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Ah..ok-ay then. Uh, do you know where Fundy is?”

“He should be checking on the progress on the town, he’ll be back later today. Anything else?” Dare he say, Tubbo’s eyes seemed to narrow, get more stern as he added the last part. 

Quackity felt his stomach churn uncomfortably at the sight. 

He gave a numb nod, turning on his heel and left the room, shutting the door after himself. The voices didn’t start up until he turned the corner, he glanced back debating if he should eavesdrop.

Yeah, no that wasn’t going to happen. 

He picked up the pace and started down to his office, trying to push past any unwarranted thoughts as he traveled down the dark hall. But as he turned the corner to his office he was immediately aware of a couple of things.

For starters, his door was wide open allowing him a straight view into his office. Though not concerning, it was certainly odd as he usually always had his door closed anytime wasn't there. 

He walked into the room, looking around for anything out of place, but paused as he felt just how warm the room felt. He stepped back out into the hall, noting that it was significantly colder than it was inside his office. The furnace located near the back of his office wasn’t on, he made sure to check when he reentered his office, shutting the door behind him. 

Finding the source of the heat seems pointless, the windows were cold to the touch, the furnace was off and there wasn't any other logical way that heat could’ve been generated. So he instead shrugged off the oddity and went to sit down in his office, then noticed the next off thing.

The papers that he’d left neatly on his desk had been separated into different piles, once looking at them he realized they’d separated into piles of importance. Looking at it this way, the workload looked a lot less intimidating. On the last pile, he noticed a smaller piece of paper, he reached over and picked it up, eyeing the contents on the note. 

His brows furrowed, trying to figure out what in the ever-loving-fuck he was reading. Whoever attempted to write looked to just about have a stroke in the middle of it. He vaguely made out the words, ‘easier’ and ‘like before’, but everything else was just scribbles.

He let out a huff of a laugh, his main suspicions were now on Fundy for this. He didn’t know if this was supposed to be some type of prank and jab at his organization skills or a way the guy was simply trying to help. Either way he was grateful for it, he’d have to thank him later on.

He quickly got to work, knocking out a pile and a half of papers before he was interrupted by a knock in front of him. Glancing up, he noticed Fundy standing in the doorway, a polite smile stretched on his face. 

“Hey, Big Q.”

A smile of his own spread across Quackity’s features and he stood up, putting aside the work for later. “Fundy! My man! Come on in.”

The fox hybrid did just that and Quackity tried to ignore the way the room got significantly colder when the other stepped foot into the room. Fundy, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice instead he eyed the papers on the desk carefully. “Seems like you’ve gotten a lot done.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah! I gotta thank you for that man. I’d probably still have twice as much.”

A look of confusion washed over the other features and he raised a brow, “Thank me? For what?”

The other gave a small chuckle, something mixed with a confused and nervous tone. “I mean, for helping me organize? Y’know the papers? When I came in this morning, the papers were neatly piled up into groups. Here, there was even a note.” Racing over, the ravanette passed the note to Fundy who scanned it. His facial features only seemed to grow more confused. 

“Uh, I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about Quackity. I..I didn't write this. I didn’t even come into the office this morning, I just met up with Dream and Tubbo, before going to help out the rest.” He passed the note back to Quackity, whose brows were knitted into utter confusion. “Maybe Tubbo did it? He could’ve done this after talking with Dream.” He tried, arms crossing over his chest.

“Dream was still here when I arrived, they both were talking about something I don’t know. I don’t think- I mean it could’ve been..I don’t know.”

“Well, it had to be him Quackity. Nobody else is really allowed in here like this.”  
  
A small silence fell over them, Quackity’s eyes never left the scribbled words left on the note. He guessed he’d have to bring it up with Tubbo..or not maybe not. At least not today, the teen seemed to have a lot on his plate right now.

Fundy cleared his throat after a moment, and looking up he locked eyes with the other. “I uh, i came here because I wanted to know if you’d like to take a break or something? I’m guessing you got here a bit early and it’s just past lunch time.”

Quackity looked back at the note, then towards the paper work on his desk.

“Niki’s making pastries too. You should come, Big Q. You need to take a break.” A hand rested on Quackity’s shoulder, the other didn’t need to look up to know the look the other had.

He nodded after a moment and placed the note down, following Fundy out the office not returning to the next day.

After that, similar incident occurred, things would appear in his office along with a very unintelligible note in its wake. He tried to ask Tubbo about it, but the teen simply said he didn’t have time to do all that and even if he did, why would he do it in secret? That made sense he guessed, but he still wanted to hold onto the thought of someone playing around than the alternative. But, it soon got harder and harder to ignore that something unnatural was going on.

Until he finally got his answer.

The day was going slow, slower than normal, it reminded him of the days before him and Schlatt would goof off or go on dates when there seemed to be nothing else better to do. He found himself frowning, part of him longing for those days to return. The times he and Schlatt would have a few drinks together, go on walks, watch a little Live PD with one another. Now, his options were numbered and he wasn’t exactly fond of bothering Tubbo. As kind as the kid was, he was getting awfully used to the whole president thing, being the most serious he’s ever seen him. Not only that, but Dream seemed to be popping in more than he remembered as well. He’d at walked into the office to see the green hooded male sitting across from Tubbo. They always seemed to be engaged in some type of serious conversation, never laughing, never smiling, just formal conversation. It was weird. 

  
  


He leaned back in his chair letting out a frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. Sometimes he wished he could turn back the clock, how far was just the question. A realistic part said before the elections happened, that way he’d take back his vote and just try and talk some sense into Wilbur. But, honestly…sometimes he wished he could go back to their last argument. That he would’ve stayed with the man instead of running away, instead of killing him. Schlatt wouldn’t even be dead if it wasn’t for him, he’d still be here, with one more life to spare even if it was in captivity. 

The words his ex had said before his initial death rang throughout his ear, he tried to block it out. The sound of his raspy voice struggling to get words out, how his eyes looked so unfocused, hazy, yet how he was determined to lock eyes with him. To tell Quackity his wrong doings.

A light shuffle from beside im had Quackity jolting in his seat, quickly sitting up ready to come up with an excuse as he expected to see Fundy or even Tubbo. But instead, he didn’t see anyone. He swerved his head around his office, trying to make out if he could see anyone, but the room was empty, just as it always been.

He slouched in his seat, thinking it was all in his mind, till his eyes drifted to his desk, where a note that most certainly wasn’t there before, sat innocently in front of him. 

He sat up immediately, quickly picking up the note, it was the same sheet of paper he had been given before. Except this time, he could read the note.

  
  


_“ Stop looking so goddamn sad, it’s pathetic._

_Go outside. ”_

  
  


He started at the note, reading its contents over and over again. And then he did just that. He quickly got up and rushed outside, only this time he was a mission. He had to speak with WIlbur. He’d forgotten about it due to work and frankly, he’d gotten used to everything, but this..he just had to know that it was him.

His legs ached by the time he got to Tommy's house, he rapidly knocked on the oak door. Nothing. He shouted for Tommy to come out anything, but he was still met with silence. 

He cursed under his breath, he could be anywhere on this damn server. He turned on his heel and started to head to one of the mines, hoping to hear the familiar screeching voice of the kid. Or even the accented voice of Phil, yet he didn’t come across the two.

He started to ask around, the two apparently were just mining and traveling at the moment to get more supplies and his stomach dropped at the thought that they could be in the nether. He continued his search, even as his legs were on the verge of giving out. He plopped down in some field he’d found himself in, eyes glaring down at the ground. His heart thumped in his chest, even in death Schlatt was making his life a living hell.

His brows knitted together, hand gripping the grass as newfound anger bubbled up in his throat. Then he started yelling, cursing, screaming obscenities at nothing. Cursing Schlatt for everything, for bringing him to this point. 

_For ruining his life._

He screamed till his voice ran dry, and throat stung. His body fell to the side as a sob racked his body, the feeling almost reliving. All the pain he endured, kept bottled up and shoved to the side, finally bubbling up to the surface. He curled in on himself, shielding himself from the world around him.

He didn’t notice as a soft hum started to come his way, only fading upon seeing his body. The figure paused, almost seeming hesitant, before it sat down next to the crying man. He stayed by his side till Quackity crying slowly started to cease, to which he gently placed a hand down on top of the others back. No surprise when said man flinched back, sitting up quickly to eye whoever it was. But, maybe that was a bit too quick, as he reached for his head, a soft groan pouring from his lips. 

“Is everything alright, Quackity?”

Immediately Quackity froze, recognizing the voice instantly. He locked eyes with the smiling ghost, whis head titled just slightly to the side. 

“Holy shit- Wilbur?!”

The smile only grew on the other, “I believe so.” He laughed, scooting closer to the other to place a hand on his shoulder. “Is everything alright?” He repeated, eyes laced with concern.

The other slumped slightly, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. “I don’t know. I just..a lot has happened recently.”

The ghost nodded silently in response, waiting to see if the other would go on. 

“I know you don’t remember a lot, but..there was somebody I was kinda close with and they died during the whole war thing.” He explained, watching the ghost face contour into a guilt like expression. “Granted they did have it coming to them, they weren’t the best!” He quickly added at the end, chuckling nervously.

“Oh. So...you miss them..?” 

“I mean..I guess..? I just feel like, there's something more y’know?”

“No. Not really.”

Huffing a laugh at Wilbur’s bluntness, Quackity plucked at the grass beneath him. “I’m really beating around the bush here..” He mumbled quietly, inhaling deeply after words. “Do.. Do you see anyone with you? As a ghost I mean?” 

“Oh, uh..” The ghost pondered for a moment, eyes trained down in thought before shooting up to meet Quackity’s gaze. His eyes brightened up at the memory that he recalled, a grin returning back to his lips, “Yeah actually! I remember someone, though I haven't seen them in a while.

“Wait- Wait, you’re serious? Do you remember how they look?” 

“Uhh...I remember they had a blue sweater on...oh! And horns! They had horns!”

“Holy shit..” Quackity staggered a bit as he stood, heart starting to race and eyes blown wide. The information really shouldn’t have been that shooking to him, or just not as much. The lingering shadow figure that was ever present wherever he went, or odd notes that seemed to insult him each time really should’ve been enough. Yet still, hearing it out loud. Hearing that he wasn’t just..hallucinating the whole thing struck him with realization. 

His boss was alive. And if he was lucky, just as forgetful as Wilbur.

“Is that them?” Wilbur asked upon seeing the ducks reaction, floating up alongside him.

“Yeah- yeah, that's him alright.”

“That's great! You two can have a reunion like I did with Phil and Tommy! Hopefully it’ll go just as smooth!”

The words of encouragement from the ghost did wonders for Quackity, the hope that he could actually start anew with the ram was a fresh breath of relief. 

He and the ghost made their way back to L’Manburg in comfortable silence, say for the quiet humming emitting from Wilbur here and there.

At some point during the trek back, him and WIlbur split up. The ghost claimed how he was needed elsewhere and Quackity guessed by Tommy or Phil. He shrugged it off initially, thinking that the ghost just ghost a feeling when he was needed. But then..wouldn’t Schlatt have that too. God, he hoped not. Or he was at least not smart enough to know what it meant.

His positive demeanor stayed put, up until he entered his office and saw the ghostly aura of his former boss seated at his desk. Legs kicked up on the desk, leaning back ever so slight with his arms behind his head. He locked eyes with the ram immediately, and the lopsided grin that took over his face had his stomach churn.

“Glad you finally accepted my existence. You had me think you were just gonna forget about me.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly shorter than I would've liked, and not the best written but it's the best I could do right now! Thank you for all the kind comments, happy to see you all are liking the story so far!!

Quackity didn’t have anything to say to the other, he only stared at him blankly which seemed to irritate Schlatt.

“Well,  _ Alex _ , don't you have something to say to me?”

The former was only able to gape at the other before a strained laugh fell from his lips having him cringe at the sound.

Schlatt scoffed, removing his legs from the table to stand. He mumbled about how he was still pathetic or something on the lines of that. Quackity wasn’t paying any attention, to fixate on the new outfit the other wore. It shouldn’t have caught him as off guard as it did, but the baby blue sweater the other wore made his former boss look less intimidating. Dare he say, kinder, than the dark suit he used to wear.

“Nice sweater.” He blurted out, eyes shifting to move from the clothing to Schlatt’s face.

The ram studies him for a moment, before going back to grinning. “You think so?” He hummed, smoothing out the fabric, “It’s comfortable at best, better than that tight ass suit.”

“Haha, yeah. You looked good in it though.”

“Oh, of course, I did. I rocked that shit and literally anything else I wear.” He gave an exaggerated winced, “Too bad I can’t say the same to you.”

Past Quackity would’ve taken offense that, glared, yelled, or felt hurt. But he was  _ way _ too tired at this point and his brain was still trying to wrap around the fact that he and a man who was previously dead were having an all too calm conversation.

“Yeah.” The duck shrugged, walking past Schlatt to slump into one of the chairs, “I haven't been looking too hot lately. Still recovering in front of the whole, explosion thing. Who knew being in the direct line of fire could do so much damage.” He heard the ram snort somewhere off to his right, “But hey, at least I’m alive right?” A low blow, he knew that, but if the ghost could make a jab at him then he could do the same back.

He didn’t get a response back, which made him glance over at the other to see ram glaring at him. He tilted his head some, “Did say something wrong?” 

“Fuck you.”

"Yeah.”

Silence. 

Quackity fiddled with his sleeve for a moment as the air thickened. He really didn’t think he’d get this far honestly, but now with his dead boss in the same room as him, he realized just how unprepared for this meeting he was. But like hell, he was going to let this opportunity pass.

“Hey, Schlatt?”

A grunt sounded in response.

“Do you remember everything that happened?”

A low hum came from the other hybrid before the ghost made his way over to the small seating area Quackity resided at. “A lot of things are blurred, but I remember overall things like being president and some parts of the festival.”

Quackity nodded numbly, “Like the good parts?”

“There were good parts of the festival?”

“I was just asking- I mean, Wilbur can only remember good memories. So, I thought you’d be the same as well.”

  
  
“I probably would’ve been the same, if someone didn’t, I don’t know, eat my fucking heart! Like what the hell was that?! Do you just go around eating people's organs after they die? Are you crazy?!”

“It was an act of rebellion! Like a- a ‘fuck you’ kind of deal!”

“You could’ve danced on my grave, or something similar to that! That's what a ‘fuck you’ kind of deal is- no! No! Stop fucking laughing, I’m serious!”

The ram watched with narrow eyes, as the male in front of him doubled over in laughter. 

“You're sick- Oh! And don’t even get me started on Tubbo and Tommy. Do you think you're a good influence on them? Allowing them to play with my goddamn bones like an instrument!”

  
  
Quackity laughing increased, the hybrid finding himself sucking in deep breaths as a way to calm himself. “Wait- w-ait, I can’t fucking-” another fit of laughter, before he spoke again, “I can’t breathe-”

“Good. Hopefully then when you die, you can watch as people devour parts of your being.” Schlatt wasn’t surprised when the younger continued to laugh. He hated how contagious it was, but he kept his face as straight as possible. 

That's how the rest of the day went. Schlatt bringing up stupid memories that he was either fond, or not so fond of, and watched as Quackity nearly laughed himself to death.

It was obvious the two were working around any serious conversation, which was fine with them. For now at least. They practically had all the time in the world now to speak on it.

Everything died down just before the sun disappeared on the horizon. Having been reminiscing and laughing for hours on end, the faint glow of the lanterns add a warm feeling to the room. Now that Quackity thought of it, the room was filled with a familiar warmth, one he had felt on numerous occasions. One look over at the furnace, let him know he knew the culprit.

“What with you warming up the room? I thought ghosts were known for doing the opposite.”

  
  
Schlatt simply shrugged, leaning back in the chair he sat comfortably in. “Don’t know. Wasn’t even aware I was making the room warm. Maybe I’m just special.” He made a motion with his hand to emphasize, a toothy grin plastered on his face.”

“You’re special alright.” The duck mumbled, glazing away from ram to look at the window. The moon was going to rise soon, and as much as he wanted to get some rest, there was still work to be done.

With a strained sigh, he got up from his spot and headed back over to his desk, and sat down. Schlatt’s eyes followed him closely, but he didn’t speak. The silence that started afterward only reminded Quackity of the times before. The light sound of a pen scraping against paper, the slight tense feeling wafting through the air, and the light tapping of Schlatt’s feet. Unlike before, the sound was softer, much softer, than before. Mostly due to the outfit change.

He tightened his grip on the pen as he marked off another paper. This would really be a good time to address the elephant in the room. This was one of the reasons he’d wanted his ex in the first place, and now that he has the opportunity he was letting it slip through his fingers. He tried reasoning that they’d have another chance to be able to speak, but he wasn’t benefiting anything from just prolonging the whole thing.

With a long inhale, Quackit placed his pen down and folded his hands.

“Schlatt?”

“Hm?” He could see the older glance over at him from his peripheral. 

He felt his word clog in his throat, this would’ve been a lot easier if Schlatt was the one starting the conversation.

“What's up, Q?” Schlatt sat up straighter in his seat, waiting for him to speak.

Quackity’s mind screamed at him to say anything, something that would get him the answer he wanted or yearned for. It was getting clear he couldn't just work his way around the question, no amount of casual conversation could be able to make this less blunt.

“Are you sorry, Schlatt?”

“Sorry..?” He chuckled quietly, “Why woul..” The ram must’ve seen the unimpressed look on the other face, as the laughing soon died down.

“You’re dead now Schlatt. You have nothing to gain at this point.” The younger ran his hands down his face, “I just want some sort of apology. Something that’ll let me know you’ve changed.

“It’s not that easy.”

“It really is.”

“Maybe to you.” Schlatt spat out with a huff, “It’s not easy for me though. I can’t- I can’t just apology for everything.”

“And why not? Are you not sorry for what you did?”

  
  
“Not everything. This country can eat shit for all I care. If Wilbur was still the same bastard as before I’d put another arrow in him. And I have no real good opinion on that other kid.”

“What about Tubbo? When you staged his execution?”

“I am sorry about that.” 

The words came out smoothly, enough so that Quackity eyed the ram suspiciously. “You mean that?”

“I do. I know I could’ve handled everything a bit better-”

“A bit?”

“ _ A lot better _ . An execution was unnecessary, I know that now. Could’ve just kicked the kicked out or something.”

“Or you could have talked with him.”

“I’m not good at that Q, you of all people should know that.”

Quackity narrowed his eyes, leaning forward in his seat. “What about me then? Are you sorry for the hell you put me through?”

A sigh, then a mumbled yes in response. 

“You don’t sound sorry.”

“I don’t know being sorry sounded like something.”

“Schlatt-”

“Quackity-”

“The only reason I wanted you here was to know you were sorry for what you did.”

“Not that you missed me?”

  
  
“Don’t flatter yourself.”

The ghost cracked a smile, floating up from his spot and over to Quackity who kept narrowed eyes on him. 

“I promise you that I’m sorry for what I’ve done.”  _ It still didn’t sound genuine.  _ “Do you think we can put this behind us?”  _ No. _

Quackity stared at the ram, taking in the softer look the other held, rather than the usual intimidating expression he usually wore. While he found it hard to believe him, he knew there could just be a chance Schlatt really was sorry. What could the other gain from lying to him now? 

He slumped back in his seat and nodded, cracking his own tired smile back at the ghost. “Yeah, I think so.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter finally! 
> 
> I hope you all are doing fine, this year has already become a mess, but I do hope you're all safe and doing well! Enjoy!

Since the whole _apology,_ Schlatt has become something like a clingy puppy. Emphasis on _something._

Anywhere Quackity went, Schlatt went. Which was something of a concern to the duck, seeing that he didn’t really want anyone to see the ghost right now. Not until he found a way to bring the news to the others. 

Schlatt made it a point to call him stupid because of it, saying ‘ _It didn’t matter’_ and _‘They can suck it up if they don’t like it’_ and while Quackity was happy with the confidence, that didn’t make him want to do it any faster. So instead, Schlatt was his little secret. 

So, in the long run, it was a good surprise to find out that no one but himself could see and hear Schlatt. 

He found that out when Tubbo had come into his office one night to check on him while Schlatt was rambling about something. 

He had immediately froze up as Tubbo entered and asked him what he was up to. Schlatt, being the bastard he was, didn’t stop speaking. Though Tubbo didn’t even seem to notice him, he just asked Quackity small formalities, as usual, wished him a good night, then left.

The two hybrids stared at each other for a moment, before Schlatt went back to whatever story he hadn’t finished earlier.

After that, Quackity couldn’t shake the ghost off of him. Which he didn’t really mind, it’s just that the ghost loved to pull stupid pranks that more or less made him look insane. 

Tubbo and Fundy had walked in on him speaking to thin air, way too many times to admit. Niki looked at him oddly when he’d get twice as many pastries from her as usual. (Schlatt insists on eating even though he doesn't need it. But it’s either that or listening to his constant complaining.) And Dream was odd. He couldn’t put his tongue on it, but the masked man always stared a bit longer than he would’ve like when he’d enter Tubbo’s office with Schlatt. No matter how many times the ram would try to assure him that Dream couldn't see him, it didn’t lessen any of his worries. 

When it came to home life well..it was home life, he guessed. Though, Quackity had to admit it felt less empty when the ghost entered. 

Quackity had set up rules the very first-day Schlatt had entered. While they could share a room, Quackity had placed Schlatts own bed on the opposite side of the room. He didn’t miss the slight look of disappointment that briefly crossed the man's face. He tried not to think about it too much, this was best for both of them. 

Then never once spoke about their relationship, not the night of the apology, not any night when they reminisced on their past. Not once. It seemed to be some sort of forbidden topic that never wanted to present itself into the conversation. While, yes, it would make a lot of things less awkward, it felt better to just act like it didn’t even exist. They were just two bros, living under the same roof, with uncovered trauma and heartbreak that was to never be spoken of.

He was sure Schlatt wanted to speak on it, said times he had noticed how the ghost stared at him as he got ready for bed. Or when Quackity briefly hung out with Karl when he had free time after work.

If you asked Quackity, he’d simply say they weren’t together. Not anymore. There wasn't a trace of a relationship left between the two, that crumbled away with each argument and disagreement they had. Each mocking statement that’d been thrown his way during public meetings. Each time Schlatt would ignore younger, act as if he was some type of burden, an annoyance to him. As if he wasn’t the one who got his sorry ass in office in the first fucking place.

“Jesus Christ, Q. You’re gonna break the fucking spoon.” 

Quackity jolted back to reality and looked down at said spoon, a slight dent having been formed. He cursed quietly and tried to even it out, Schlatt watching him from the opposite side of the table.

The ram had been kind enough to help him through some breakfast recipe he knew about. It wasn’t half bad when he tried it, and Schlatt went in some tangent about it as they ate. But at this point, he was sure it was more than apparent he hadn’t been listening. 

“You’ve been spacing out a lot lately. You good?” The concern that the other held in his voice had Quackity’s stomach turn. The look he was receiving wasn’t helping in the slightest either, but even with that said Quackity placed a small smile on his face.

“Ah, it’s nothing, It’s nothing. Just think stressed is all.” The younger finally got the spoon straightened out enough, before going back to eating.

“Yeah, I can tell that. My question is, why?”

Quackity couldn’t really tell if he was really concerned or not, but he wasn’t going to come out right and say what was on his mind. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and kept his eyes glued to his plate.

“Work, I guess. It’s been getting pretty heated since Tommy’s arrest.”

“Ah, yeah almost forgot about that. It’s been, what? Two or three days since the whole thing, right?”

The younger gave a small nod in response, truth be told though he wasn’t anxious. He knew how close both Tommy and Tubbo were with one another and considering the blonde was the vice president, he should be fine in the long run. Maybe a few minor consequences, but nothing serious.

“Ah, he should be fine. No need to stress.” The ghost shoved a piece of the pancake in his mouth, “Besides, they’re like, inseparable.”

The duck hybrid knew what the other was hinting at, but kept a straight face as he nodded, “Yeah, I guess so. Still worrying though, Dreams been a lot more involved with L’Manburg lately.”

“Well, doesn’t he own this server? It’s about time he got his ass involved, I’m sure he’s tired of the wars going on.”

“He literally engaged in some of the wars.”

Schlatt shrugged, making an _eh_ sound as a response.

Quackity rolled his eyes and finished up his breakfast, then got ready for the day. Truthfully, he had no reason to leave so early. He had already finished up any paperwork that was left, with the help of Schlatt. The reconstruction of L’Manburg had since been handed over to Phil, and everything else had since been dealt with or is in the midst of being dealt with by someone else. He guessed his prior job of sitting still and looking pretty was now ringing true.

“What’s the plan for today, Big Q?”

Fixing the beanie on his head Quackity spared a glance back at Schlatt. “I was thinking we can check in on Tommy for the time being.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You could always stay here.” 

The ram huffed in response but didn’t argue further much to Quackity’s delight. 

They left soon after that, heading to the make-shift prison the blonde teen was being held at. His room was empty, say for the boy that leaned against the prison bars, staring idly at the ground. 

“Hey, Tommy.”

The teen whipped his head over in the duck’s direction, seemingly tensing up for a moment before realizing who was there.

“Hey, Big Q..”

Walking over to the bars, Quackity gave Tommy a small smile. “Was Tubbo here earlier..?”

“Yeah, he and that green bastard came to check up on me this morning.”

“Dream also came? I thought only the cabinet had main visiting rights for you?”

“I thought so too, but he said Dream had every right to see me as well since I had ‘messed with his own’. Or some shit like that. Big Q, he’s always with Tubbo nowadays, even before the whole ‘blowing up George’s home’ thing. He doesn’t even listen to me anymore, and I’m supposed to be his vice!”

“Sounds familiar.” Quackity utter, ignoring the indignant look he earned from the ghost behind him.

“I know you said that I have a chance to get off scot-free with this, but I think Tubbo is gonna listen to Dream..”

“With the exile..? No, no. Fundy and I already talked to him about it. Dreams threats are void, he can’t build walls around a place he doesn’t own.”

“He does own the SMP.”

“But, Tubbo has rights to L’Manburg and if he wants to be fair, he can’t just come around and start ordering people.”

“I guess.” The teen stood, stretching out his legs, “We’ll see. When the trial? Tomorrow?”

“I believe so, sometime in the morning.”

The conversation afterward consisted of Quackity updating the teen on things that were happening, or him cracking jokes to get his spirits up. Though, he had a feeling all that happened in vain, as he was given an order to leave when Tubbo and Dream had come back. 

He left without complaint, it wouldn’t solve a thing anyway if he tried to argue. Honestly, Quackity had low hopes for the trail. It was clear how dependent the young ram had gotten on Dream, and said man seemed to be constantly at an advantage.

“You're thinking too hard again.”

“Shut up Schlatt.” 

The ghost gave a hum in response, moving closer to Quackity and rested his hands on his shoulders, squeezing just light in reassurance. “Listen, I know I’m probably the last person you’d want to hear this from but I’m genuinely here for you.” Quackity felt his stomach flutter just slightly, he couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. “I wasn’t the best in life, so I’m trying to be better in death. This is a pretty fucked up thing to happen, especially when you’re not given any insight on what's happening behind the scenes.”

The younger could only laugh, glancing back at the ghost. “Kinda wish you had this mentality when you were alive.”

“Eh, yeah. Ya’ take what you can though. Besides, you can’t deny that we still had our moments when I was _among the living_.”

“Ah, yes. I especially love the part where I was left at the altar.”

“We barely knew each other for the record.”

“Or when you said I was boring during our dates.” 

“I wasn’t hungry and you were boring.”

“The way you started isolating yourself from everyone.”

“I..I don’t have an excuse for that. But, you’re only pointing out the bad things. Nothing good.”

Quackity stopped short of his walk, and the ghost behind him paused as well. “The bad outweighs the good.”

“Even still, isn’t it nice to contemplate on the good more than the bad?”

“Yeah, but it's difficult when the bad is ebbed into you for life. When there's still a constant reminder of the past following you constantly, living with you!”

Schlatt hummed, he didn’t seem bothered by the statement. Intrigued if anything.

_Good to know things didn’t seem to change with him._ The younger thought bitterly, “Well? What smart remark do you have to say about that?”

After a beat of silence the ghost simply moved back, his arms held out in a surrender-like motion. “Nothing. Look, if I’m causing you this much trouble then I can always leave.”

“Schlatt-”

“I’m serious. Since I’ve gotten here you’ve always been the same, so alert. And **_I know_ ** why. I know it’s my fault, but I have been trying and you can’t deny that. You _wanted me here so bad_ , but now that I’m here you can’t even sleep in the same bed as me!”

“Are you serious? Why would I want to do that after all this time?! Please, explain to me, why after all this shit I would even think about sleeping with you again? Why would I even dare to be in a relationship that close to you again? I barely trust you still, it takes more than sweet talk and making breakfast to get me to trust you!” He shoved a finger in the ghost chest, watching as the rams figure seemed to faze in and out for a split moment. “I wanted you here because I had some hope you could change once more! That, just like before, I could help make you a better person! I’m not, and let me make it fucking clear, I’m **_not_ **looking for a relationship with you! A friendship, yeah, but nothing more.” 

The duck backed off after a moment, straightening himself out. The ghost in front of him didn't make a motion to move, instead stared straight at Quackity, face blank and unreadable. 

“When you finally realize that I just..I just want something _real_ with you. Nothing forced, nothing fake, _made up_. Then we can continue this conversation. I want us to be on the same page and it's clear that right now, we’re not.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked off. It didn’t take him long to realize that Schlatt wasn’t following him. Not that he cared, if anything it proved his point even more. 


End file.
